


Return of the King, if not quite as expected.

by Savvylicious



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Naked Dwarves, Popping up out of the ground, little baby hobbits, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savvylicious/pseuds/Savvylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr request. After years of mourning, Bilbo finally plants the acorn and the next day he wakes up to find that it has magically grown. Sleeping in the roots are some people he never expected to see again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return of the King, if not quite as expected.

It was on a quiet spring day many years after the great Battle of Erebor that Bilbo Baggins found himself in his garden. It had since browned and withered up since he’d been away for more than a year and hadn’t tended it since returning. The troll’s gold allowed him to live alone and quite comfortably. He hardly left his home unless it was absolutely necessary, vastly preferring the silence of Bag End to the hustle and bustle of Hobbitton.

Frodo had since become a welcome addition to his home, but Bilbo hadn’t the foggiest idea on child rearing. He’d been an only child and the prospect of settling down and marrying to have a few never had appealed to him. Now especially the idea was sour, since there was only one person in all of Middle Earth that had ever pulled such feelings from him. And that person was someone Bilbo would never know the joy of seeing again. Thankfully, Frodo seemed a rather self-sufficient boy, and the two of them got along comfortably.

Bilbo struck up a match and lit his pipe, walking through the halls of his home absentmindedly. Lost in memory he wandered, but stopped when he heard giggling from near the front door. By the sound of it, Frodo had gotten into something, and with a quiet laugh, Bilbo went to investigate.

"I told you Uncle Bilbo has a treasure chest."

Frodo and two of his cousins were bent over Belladonna’s glorybox. They were sorting through it carefully, pushing through the gold and weapons with curious hands.

"I really don’t think you should be in there!"

Bilbo turned his gaze to the open window to see little Samwise, peeking in worriedly. He supposed that was how the other two had gotten in and watched them from afar with raised eyebrows.

"Oh will you shush up and get in here already Sam," Meriadoc scolded, keeping a trained eye on his tiny cousin.

Peregrin, who was hardly old enough to walk, was wearing a dwarven helmet that was three sizes too big for him. Sam sighed a disgruntled sigh but pulled himself over the sill, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Bilbo in the doorway. His nervous spluttering alerted the others, and they dropped whatever it was they were holding and looked immediately guilty, red-handed and red-faced.

"Having fun boys?"

"Cousin Bilbo… We were just…" Meriadoc stuttered, hands on Peregrin’s shoulders.

"Playin’!" Peregrin giggled, peeking from underneath the helmet.

"Shhh Pippin!"

Frodo worried at his hands, Sam looked like he was about to cry, and Bilbo shook his head with a smile. He put out his pipe and stepped over to the chest, kneeling to their heights. “It’s not nice to rummage through someone’s things without permission.”

"We’re sorry," Chorused from the older three of them and Bilbo was satisfied.

"Right then, what has you so curious?"

"Merry said there might be a dragon claw in here, since you killed the dragon."

Bilbo laughed, coming to the box and looking at them with amusement, “Bard was the one that killed the dragon. I only woke him.”

Frodo smiled, and the rest of them looked relieved. They clamored to join him, peeking into Bilbo’s box of wonders with excited eyes. Each one asked him about a certain item to which he answered truthfully. Sam was the one to pick up the kerchief and pull out the little acorn inside.

"Mister Bilbo, what about this?"

_Plant your trees._

And all at once, Bilbo felt the air leave him, like someone had hit him. Four pairs of eyes watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.

"This is… An acorn that I picked up in the garden of a bear."

"A bear?"

"Why would a bear have a garden?"

"Maybe the bear likes to garden. I like to garden."

"Bears!"

Bilbo offered them a shaky smile but took the little seed from Sam carefully, shutting the box after. The boys were obviously disappointed, but he wouldn’t hear anything more of it. With a fondness, he shooed them outside and closed the door behind them.

It was a long while before he could bring himself to look at the acorn in his pocket again. A long while since he’d remembered the last normal conversation he’d had with Thorin Oakenshield.

_I’m going to plant it in my garden. So that when it grows into a tree I’ll  
remember. I’ll remember all of the good and all of the bad, and how lucky   
I am to have made it back._

And he remembered how Thorin had smiled then and Bilbo sank to the floor and wept.

It was well after Frodo had gone to sleep that Bilbo found himself outside in the very late evening. The stars shone bright in the sky above him, a cold light that was full of all sort of memories. He knelt on the ground and dug a small hole in the dry earth. The feel of dirt beneath his fingernails was familiar and comforting. Bilbo missed the summer days where he would sit here and garden, the smell of tomatoes all around him.

He placed the acorn in the small hole he’d made and covered the top of it with soil. It would be many years before anything would grow, but Bilbo was patient. He had the rest of his life after all.

He gave the ground a comforting pat, brushing the dirt off his hands so he could wipe at his runny nose and eyes, and turned back to his home to turn in for the night.

Bilbo dreamt of many things that night, of the breeze chasing him through Rivendell, the smell of honeysuckle and pumpkins in Beorn’s Garden. The great trees of Mirkwood, the pies and bread of Dale, the waterfalls and moss and glittering caves of Erebor. And all the while he heard a smoky voice leading him on, urging him onwards towards the Lonely mountain and beyond, to a world that was shining golden and warm.

"Uncle Bilbo! Uncle Bilbo! Wake up! Wake up wake up! There are fairies in our garden!"

Bilbo woke with a start, Frodo on his chest and shaking him. The boy looked equal parts frightened and excited.

"There’s a big tree and all your vegetables grew back! Come see, come see. Fairies did it all last night and they’re sleeping in the garden right now. Come see!"

Bewildered and still foggy with sleep, Bilbo allowed himself to be pulled from the bed in nothing but his nightshirt and let Frodo lead him outside to the garden.

Frodo hadn’t been lying.

Last night his garden had been barren and dead as it had been for the past six years. Now it was lush and fruitful, brimming with all kinds of life. Hummingbirds zoomed from flower to flower, song birds chirped from camellia bushes. Stalks of lavender weaved to and fro in the gentle morning breeze and Bilbo could to nothing but stare.

"Fairies Uncle! It was fairies. And they’re in the tree."

"The tree?" Dazed, Bilbo tore his gaze away from the plentiful rows of fruits and vegetables to look at the great oak tree that had sprang forth from the little seed he planted last night in the darkness.

"They don’t look like I imagined fairies to be, but they must have been, since this wasn’t here yesterday."

Frodo tugged his hand gently and together they walked towards the great oak, minding the vegetation that grew underneath their feet. They stopped at the tree’s front and Frodo pointed at the roots. "In there."

Bilbo let go of the boy’s hand and eased himself down, peeking into the tree with amazement.

Three figures lay in heaps, covered in dirt and roots and flowers. Bilbo reached out to touch the nearest one but pulled back when the creature stirred, squeaking as it drew itself up. Whatever it was, it was hairy, and bare as a babe, and most certainly not a fairy. The creature groaned, one powerful and very filthy arm coming up to brush the mussed locks from its face.

"P-Pray pardon…" Bilbo stuttered, scrambling backwards. "I didn’t mean to disturb—"

"Bilbo?" it rasped, voice husky and **familiar**.

Bilbo stopped, breath catching. The world screeched to a halt, and all that he could focus on was the stormy eyes that had peeked from the mass of black hair and dirt on the ground underneath the tree.

"No…" he whispered, more to himself than anyone. "No. No, no-no, no. No."

"Bilbo."

"No!" Bilbo’s screech was loud, and try as he might he could not disentangle himself from the roots. "No! I left you! I left you on that mountain… You…. This is a foul trick. I won’t have any part of it."

"Master Baggins. I assure you, this is no trick."

Bilbo gave up and sank to the ground, pulling his nightshirt around him as if it would shield him. “I told you not to call me that. I am… I am master to none.”

The heap chuckled, and Bilbo didn’t shrink away when it moved closer to him.

"You left me. You left me on the mountain. You cannot be him," Bilbo shook his head, curling on himself closer, "He is far away from me. He walks in the halls of Mahal with his ancestors. With Kili and Fili."

Bilbo did not flinch when hands found his shoulders.

"You know," Fili’s voice yawned as he sat up from his own heap, "Dwarven women are so rare and alike in appearance, that most men believe there are none. They say that dwarves simply… Pop out of holes in the ground."

Bilbo could not help the hysterical laugh that tore itself from his throat and he all but flung himself unto the dwarf next to him, not caring that his nightshirt was now mottled in dirt and twigs. Kili groaned and stretched, leaning on his brother.

"You left me…" Bilbo whispered, arms wrapped tight around the dwarf’s neck, "I watched you go. I held you and I cried and I watched them send you all to the Earth. You cannot be them. You _cannot_ be him.”

Thorin squeezed the Hobbit in his lap, silent for a long while as he so usually was. “And yet, I am.”

Bilbo heaved a sob, curling his fingers into Thorin’s hair, “ _You left me._ ”

Thorin frowned, holding the other tighter, “I know. I’m sorry.”

Fili and Kili grinned but quickly looked away when their Uncle shot them a soft glare. They drew themselves up and brushed what foliage they could from their bodies and retreated from the safety of the tree. Bilbo sniffed and Thorin gave his curls a soft pet.

"Did you remember?"

"Remember what?" The Hobbit asked, rubbing at his nose.

"You told me that when you planted this tree, you would remember the good and the bad. Do you remember the good?"

Bilbo pulled back and nodded, “Yes. And the bad.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “And everything behind and in between.”

Thorin laughed, heartily and with a rasp, just as Bilbo remembered. He heaved the both of them up, carrying the Hobbit carefully as they too left the shelter of the roots. Bilbo was content to let himself be handled in such a manner until he remembered poor Frodo who was still waiting at the top for them. He craned his neck and saw his adopted son covering his eyes and Kili and Fili looking on confused.

"Why is he doing that?"

"Dunno Kili. Maybe he’s shy."

Frodo peeked through his fingers and immediately closed them again, “I’m being modest.” He insisted, breathless.

Bilbo stifled a snicker in Thorin’s neck and Thorin made a show of clearing his throat and looking down and back up again. Kili and Fili followed his gaze and squawked when they realised their nakedness.

"Don’t look Master Boggins!"

"We’re not decent!"

Thorin laughed again and bowed his head into Bilbo’s curls, mind brimming with questions but content for the moment to simply be here, and breathing, and with Bilbo.

"Uncle Bilbo, these aren’t fairies." Frodo whispered, sounding disappointed.

"No Frodo, they’re not. These are dwarves."

" _Naked dwarves_."

"Yes Frodo, naked as the day they were born."

Frodo giggled, Kili and Fili were and mortified, and Bilbo and Thorin were besides themselves with laughter. Frodo led the way back into the house, eyes still shielded, where reason and explanation could be put aside for the moment because they all much preferred baths and hot food anyway.


End file.
